21 Days
by the Chronic Meltdown
Summary: AU. 'Before I start telling you my life story, I should start by saying that I really, really don't like hot dogs. Hot dogs suck, and Americans are crazy. Enough said, right there.' NanoFate on a trip through Europe, with side pairings.


21 Days

"_Love is an illusion, and its power overrated."_

**The First**

_Okay. _

_Before I start telling you my life story, (which, now that I think about it for more than a few seconds, is actually not one of my finest ideas) I should start by saying that I really, really don't like hot dogs. _

_Hot dogs suck and Americans are crazy. Do you know what they put _in _those things?_

_Enough said, right there. _

-O-

"I can't believe we're finally here!"

An arm is slung across my shoulders and I am propelled around like a rag doll. I squint at my best friend as she deems it necessary to twirl us around with a wide grin. We are smack dab in the middle of Madrid, Spain, dressed as only tourists can dress, with the required number of cameras dangling from our wrists and hanging from our necks. The rest of our classmates watch us with wry smiles, some of them laughing along with us, and others jeering and making fun of us. But I don't care about those- I am too distracted by Hayate and her sudden urge to let me go, so I can stumble and trip, and generally make a fool out of myself.

Like I usually do.

Arisa and Suzuka aren't far from catching up to Hayate's train of thought. They're grinning from ear to ear and indiscreetly holding hands, almost as if all they needed to come out to the rest of the world was a change of scenery and seven hours on a cramped plane. Which isn't really all that surprising if I stop to think about it.

But I really don't have the time for that, so I don't, and instead focus on the way our teachers are glaring at us and telling us to be quiet. We're thirty students on a trip through Europe, though- they're obviously getting their hopes up.

"Children, please, settle down!"

Lindy Harlaown –the woman who, conveniently enough, used to be my English teacher – is practically poisoning us with her eyes. She glares at each and every one of us until we fall entirely silent, because if there's one thing we learned in AP English, it's that we shouldn't mess around with loaded glares.

"Start counting." She says, and immediately, the first student, a girl by the name of Lutecia Alpine, says the number 1.

Arisa's second, and so I expect her to shout, "Two!"

She does, and number three goes afterward. This continues until the boy who goes before me says, "Twenty-two."

It's my turn, so without missing a beat, I say, "Twenty-three."

The girl who's after me is about to start tenth grade, and is therefore a year younger. I know her because we have the same last name, and because I had approached her during one of our volleyball practices to congratulate her for spiking the ball better than I could when I'd started. Her name is Vivio, and she has a nice smile, but what can really capture you are her eyes.

They're two different colors, and they're gorgeous.

"Twenty-four."

There's a moment of silence after that, and Lindy grows impatient. "Number twenty-five?" She growls out in irritation, scowl deepening when the student doesn't answer.

"Alicia!" Someone hisses behind me, and I turn.

The two girls I see were new last year. They'd started the grade unknown and ended up famous through the entire school. Alicia Testarossa is the most well known, but only because of her promiscuous adventures throughout the halls of our Academy. That, and she's been caught skipping so many times it's a wonder why the principal hasn't expelled her yet. And there are rumors about that, too, but some tales just aren't worth repeating.

But Alicia's gaze makes me think that there might be some truth to some of the rumors, after all.

She laughs, mouth curving into a wicked grin, and lightly shoves her younger sister before hopping on the balls of her feet and shouting, "Twenty-five is here to service!"

This makes some of the older girls snicker, and I wish I didn't know what they were laughing about, but I have certain ideas and suspicions that would make my parents faint if they ever heard them. Which they won't, because I certainly _won't_ be telling them any time soon.

Fate's quiet "Twenty-six." is quick to follow.

And her voice is so soft it makes me wish I had a tape recorder, just so I could hear her say it again.

-O-

When we arrive at the hotel, it's like a party's started.

Everyone's exhausted, but my classmates are all so pepped up on Spain that they can't wait to get out on the streets and see things for themselves. Our first tour is tomorrow, but that's the least of everyone's concerns. Most of them are worried about what to wear, who it is they're rooming with- Personally, I just want a bed.

I don't care if I get friggin' Godzilla for a roommate. A mattress and a pillow are all I need to be happy, right now.

"Nanoha-chan!"

I groan as Hayate pounces on me, a ball of hyper fury that knocks me down onto one of the hotel lobby's love seats. My suitcase slams down on the floor and the sound is so loud that everyone turns to stare at us. We really must be quite the sight, with me underneath Hayate, cheek squished against the armrest. Her body is pressed uncomfortably against mine, and I've always had a thing against being touched, so right now, I'm suffocating.

The boys snicker, and what they're thinking is unmistakable. I roll my eyes, but before I can nudge Hayate off me, Alicia Testarossa saunters over to us, smirking. The look she's giving us makes me feel like I'm the latest piece of meat hanging on display at a meat lover's convention. It makes me slightly uncomfortable and more than a little hot, and Hayate's body tensing on top of me makes me think she feels the same way.

It could also be that they've always hated each other, but to be honest, I think there's more than just hate in their relationship. Their arguments, to be completely honest, remind me of foreplay. It's like they're having intercourse with clothes on, without even touching. I don't really understand it, but Suzuka has always said they have chemistry.

I took that class, and I didn't understand it either.

"Can I join in?" Her voice is husky, filled with lust, and there are implications there that I don't dare look into. "It seems like it'll be a good time." She looks directly at Hayate and smirks. "Though I never pegged you for a lesbian, Haya-chan."

"That's 'cause I'm not, Ali-chin." And she says this with her hands on my waist, and even though I know she's just doing it to keep her balance, even I don't believe her. "I think the sticks are more fun."

Alicia's hand flutters at her side. I don't have to look up at her face to know that she's holding in laughter. Hayate's nails are digging into my sides and it hurts, but I don't complain. I'm afraid of what it'll sound like, since I'm having trouble breathing. To my defense, it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that this whole conversation is a malformed, overly long innuendo.

"You're really missing out on the food, then." I can almost feel Hayate's glare, and I'd be concerned, except that I'm pretty sure my face is about to turn blue.

"Yagami-san…" It's the soft voice, and I'm suddenly aware of waist-length blonde hair swaying directly in my line of vision. "Could you please get off Takamachi-san…? I believe she's having trouble breathing…"

Hayate quickly scrambles off me and I immediately unglue my face from the couch, face flushing from embarrassment. I'm taking deep breaths, and Fate Testarossa crouches down, her right hand resting on the armrest where my face used to be. She's looking at me with concerned eyes, and really, I've never been looked at this way before, so my voice fails me.

"Are you okay?" She prompts, and I can't believe I've never noticed that her eyes are red.

I nod, lean back, and properly sit down. She stands again, and I am momentarily distracted when she leans forward to whisper something in Alicia's ear. Then they both walk away, with the eldest twin throwing my best friend a wink and a teasing, "See you later, Haya-chan."

Hayate plops down beside me after she's reigned in her anger, and shoots me an apologetic grin. "Sorry about that."

I roll my eyes and smile at her because it somehow doesn't matter anymore.

-O-

_So…I bet you're wondering why I said that. _

_To be honest, I'm not sure either. I guess I just said it to relieve the tension. Not that you should be feeling tense. I'm just speaking for myself, right now, really, and I can't even begin to guess what _you're _feeling because I don't even know where to start. _

_And I guess that's the real problem here. _

_I'm supposed to tell you how this happened, but I have no idea where and when it started. Because I'd never really bought all those stupid, mushy tales of, "Kanji-kun, I love you!" and "Don't leave me, Tanya! I need you!". _

…_Not that all of the people were called Kanji and Tanya, but you get what I mean. _

_Well, sort of. Okay. Not really, since I don't know what I mean myself. _

_All right. _

_I'd never believed in love. At all. _

_It was all fake to me. It was something so terribly intangible, that I couldn't wrap my mind around it. To be honest, it felt like I was trying to read Portuguese with a broken microscope. _

_I just didn't get why Arisa and Suzuka always wanted to be together, or why my older brother would always worry incessantly about what to get his girlfriend three weeks before her birthday when he didn't spare me a second thought while he was shopping the day before my mine. _

_Anyway, my point is: Nanoha plus love equaled what the fuck. _

_And then, when Fate became a variable which I had inadvertently thrown into my equation, math suddenly began making more sense. _

_Or should I say love? I forget, sometimes. _

_I still don't quite grasp either of them. _

_I still don't get chemistry, either._

**A/N: **I finished this early, so I thought I should post it. It's based on my own trip to Europe.

I'm tempted to discontinue it, though. Anyway, let me know what you think. Thanks for reading.

Later.


End file.
